The Long Road
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: Blind, speechless and paralysed, Severus Snape has suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord.  But Albus Dumbledore will help him recover - and will fight for him - every tiny, painful and devastating step of the way on the road to recovery...
1. Chapter 1

**The Long Road**

_I have returned to my roots for this one; angst, hurt-comfort, and a focus on recovery with some other characters introduced to season and taste._

_This is the reason I cannot update any of my other stories - this has kidnapped my muse, and is holding it to ransom, and will not let go until I write and publish this chapter!_

_Random tidbit of information about SS19 - my first story, "Last Breath" was written to the song Hallelujah as sung by Rufus Wainwright in the very first version, and was then edited to remove the song, and the title was changed to the above._

_~SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

"Crucio!"

The word was enough to draw horror from the spectators, some of whom flinched, some of whom gasped, and some of whom cried out. It was the use of the curse, and the person using it, and the sheer perversion of the image.

But no one was willing to intervene when Albus Dumbledore sent the defeated Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort - to his knees, refusing to relinquish the curse. "How does it feel, Tom?" He demanded of the cringing, flinching Riddle, "Answer me!"

Riddle spat blood from his mouth, now nothing more than mortal, weakened and dying. He raised his head, his skin crumpling as the dark magic keeping him powerful drained away and left the shrivelled human behind, "Is this some sort of revenge?" He replied, and although his end was near, his voice could still be acidic.

Albus Dumbledore swept toward him, grabbing Riddle by his shirt and pulling his face close, "Where is he?"

Riddle smirked, sneered, grinned, "You'd very much like to know, would you not?"

"I am going to kill you, Tom. But not before you tell me _where he is._" Albus Dumbledore's voice shook with anger and something much more powerful.

"And what if I told you he was dead, Dumbledore? What then?" Riddle answered, and Dumbledore threw him to the ground, "I would not believe you. I know he is alive. I know you have him."

Picking himself back up to a sitting position, Riddle narrowed his eyes, "I tortured him."

The hand holding the Elder Wand shook, just slightly.

"He never gave in - so I destroyed him - what do you expect to do, Dumbledore? Go to Riddle Mansion and tear it apart, searching for his skeleton?" A pause. "Or his ashes? What is this - a desire for closure?"

Dumbledore lowered his wand. "Very well. It is clear to me that you are simply mortal now, Tom. You are nothing more than a human - as you always have been - you should stand trial, should you not, for your crimes? I can imagine Azkaban will…help you atone for your sins." He hesitated, "Or I could simply kill you. Do you fear death, Tom?"

Riddle cowered. "I have conquered death."

"You have not. Now. Tell me what I wish to know. _Where is he_?" Dumbledore's voice had hardened. Considerably.

"If I tell you - will you kill me?" Riddle asked in response.

Dumbledore let his wand fall to his side, "No. I will spare you. Is this you, begging for your life, Tom?"

Riddle looked at him. "He is in Riddle Mansion."

"Alive?"

A long silence. "Yes."

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you." He raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra."

The green light hit Voldemort and sent him crashing to the floor, where the body lay, crumpled and defeated and humiliated. Albus leaned down close to the body, "That was for him."

He stepped away and turned to face those who had remained to watch the final fight - stunned, shocked faces who had never seen their reverent, powerful, merciful leader act in such a way. "We are going to Riddle Mansion. He has played this game for nearly six months. It ends, today."

He started to walk away. Harry Potter hesitated. They all hesitated.

Albus felt it. He whirled, blue eyes flashing, "Did you expect me to show mercy on _him_? Have you forgotten what he did? What he has caused?"

Remus took a step forward, putting one reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, "We know, Albus - it is simply…not like you to use such force."

Albus swept close to Remus and Harry, "You saw what he did. He took the most important person in my life away - and sent me _tokens_ - and made me believe he was dead. He would have shown no mercy. Why should I have offered him that privilege? He has given me the information I wish to know - and we are now going to rescue him."

Harry would have backed away from the thunder and lightning on that face he thought he knew so well - Dumbledore's eyes flashed and his countenance was stormy. "Let's go." This was supposed to be a joyful occasion, the end of the war, the end of Voldemort himself - and yet - Dumbledore and his reaction and his hunger to cause pain to Riddle had startled all of them, Order members, teachers and students alike.

Then again, Dumbledore had not been his usual genial self since that day, six months ago, when his spy had never returned from a Death-Eater gathering. There had been no word. Nothing. Harry and his two best friends had watched, from a distance, as the old Headmaster started to go out of his mind - with worry. One month, and still nothing. Then, breakfast - teachers and students gathered together - it was all so innocent, all so calm - only the shadow on Dumbledore's face could bely what was truly on his mind.

The owl post had delivered only one envelope to the Headmaster.

Fingernails. Ten, to be precise. Harry had not known that at the time. He had simply seen the Headmaster push his chair back from the table, staring at something on his dinner plate, suddenly incredibly pale. Minerva had pressed a hand to his shoulder, glancing toward the empty seat at the table - her face taut with worry. Harry had looked toward the Slytherin table, students without a Head of House, and he had seen Draco Malfoy, and he had expected a smirk or a grin or a smug expression - and had seen something very different.

Fear.

Dumbledore had told the Order what he had been delivered that very night. Harry still remembered the tone of voice he had used; deadened, emotionless, cold. He had told them, in no uncertain terms, that they would find the prisoner and rescue him.

Two months of desperate searching had revealed - nothing. Harry had tried even reaching into Riddle's mind with Hermione and Ron - but they had found nothing. Harry had seen the hopelessness seep into Dumbledore's veins, corrupting him, slumping his shoulders and darkening his eyes.

Another token. It had arrived on Christmas Day, exactly three months to the day he had gone missing. Harry had been sat at the Head table with Hermione, a few other students, and the teachers that had chosen to remain behind. Somehow, Dumbledore had managed to put the capture aside and was more like his usual self - which made it all the more distressing when the envelope had arrived. A black envelope. White handwriting. Harry had known it instantly, and the Headmaster must have done too - but - he still opened it.

There were just two words.

_Merry Christmas._

A single cutting of black hair. And a wand. Snapped, in half. Dumbledore held the pieces in one hand, staring down at them, and Harry had felt something, somewhere, hurt inside his chest.

"_His wand was phoenix feather. I never even knew that."_

Harry had looked away. Most of them had. It was the expression of pure…Harry knew of only one way to describe it. Heartbreak.

But Dumbledore had stayed true to the image of his friend being alive - and Harry and the Order had been swept along with this campaign - yes, it had led to Harry's defeat of Voldemort, and Dumbledore's triumph - but they had also seen the decline of a wizard and the rise of something far more destructive. Vengeful.

Harry found himself, as he had been for five months now, desperately hoping and pleading that Severus Snape was still alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Long Road**

_My apologies for the terrible delay - I hope you will understand when you read._

_~ SS19_

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><p>Albus Dumbledore looked up at the dilapidated mansion named after the Riddle family, perched atop the hill, contrasting against the blue skies that seemed relentless since Voldemort's defeat. Black spires and dirty grounds, trees without any leaves, dusted with a fine layer of neglect. He pushed the gate aside with his hand, hearing it creak against its will, and started up the past.<p>

Harry was lingering behind with Remus and Arthur Weasley, both of whom had come to support the Headmaster. Harry had also insisted on attending, and thus Ron and Hermione were present too. Poppy Pomfrey and Minerva McGonagall brought up the rear. Harry glanced at the faces that surrounded him - no one knew what they might find, here, in a mansion of nightmares and only the most terrible things.

"Albus. You do not know what might be lurking. Perhaps…a more cautious speed?" Arthur tried.

Albus seemed not to hear him, looking at the front door, eyes narrowed. Arthur looked instead to Remus, who simply shrugged, and pulled his wand from his pocket. Harry and Ron did the same, Ron moving instinctively closer to Hermione, one hand just above her elbow. Harry smiled slightly. His two best friends were starting to realise the depth of their feelings toward each other. His expression sobered when he realised the situation once more.

Minerva crossed to Dumbledore and stood next to him, "How do we get in?" She had been adamant that she was coming - and Harry had overheard Remus discussing with Arthur the benefit of this.

_"She'll help to keep Albus in control."_

_"Don't forget she loved Severus like a son - she always did - she, too, is hurting."_

_"Yes. But she also knows how to keep Albus in line - and we will need that, I think."_

Albus surveyed the door. "Like this." He raised his wand, "Confringo." The Blasting Curse ripped a hole in the wall and door, allowing Dumbledore entrance. He raised his wand - just as a Dementor swept toward him. Dumbledore did not even flinch - his Patronus simply shot from the end of the wand, the Phoenix chasing the Dementor away. Dumbledore stepped into the mansion, gesturing for his companions to follow him. "Split up - find him - but be watchful. Minerva, Poppy, come with me." The hallway was shadowy and cold, a staircase leading to the upper floor. Harry looked at Remus, who nodded at Dumbledore, "We'll do upstairs."

Albus nodded once, before turning his head toward the corridor leading off into darkness. "He's here. He is definitely here. I can feel him." Minerva touched a hand to his arm, "Where?"

"I cannot…" Albus shook his head, "I cannot place him. It's almost like a shadow - but he's here." He glanced at Minerva, blue eyes filled with something she could not stand to witness, "It's…almost an imprint…I cannot tell if he is alive…or dead."

"Then we must cling to believing in the former, Albus. Riddle said he was still alive. Why would he lie?"

Albus did not answer that.

* * *

><p>"Ron! You stood on my foot!"<p>

"Sorry, Hermione - it's dark, here!"

Hermione almost rolled her eyes at Ron, but refrained. Now was not, after all, the time for jokes or laughter. Riddle Mansion seemed to steal any lightness from the atmosphere. She felt nervous just being here - and she could tell that her companions were feeling similar emotions. Behind her, Arthur jumped when his foot came into contact with a loose floorboard and startled him. Remus glanced behind them, "Be careful. We have no idea what sort of traps he set before he left."

Harry put one arm on Hermione's to steady her, and they made their way further along the corridor. Remus pushed open the first door, stepping inside, Arthur a step behind. "It's clear. Let's have a closer look." Arthur gestured to his son and friends, and they crossed into the room. It was a bedroom, with a four poster bed and dresser, both carved from the same wood. Harry and Hermione looked at the sheet on the bed - it was stained in several places with a dark red liquid that sent shivers down both their spines.

Remus moved nearer to the wardrobe, wand raised —

And the door slammed closed behind them.

* * *

><p>Albus, Minerva and Poppy were still in the main corridor. Albus had wandered off slightly further ahead, leaving Minerva and Poppy to linger, trying to decide whether the cellar was a good place to enter. Albus opened the door to the living room, stepping inside. He glanced a cursory glance around the furniture, hand still clutching his wand. "Severus?" He whispered, not expecting a response but still feeling pain when he did not receive one. "Where are you, my boy?"<p>

He ventured in further, nonverbally lighting his wand. There was something lurking behind the sofa covered in dirty, stained material. He couldn't quite - he stepped around the leg - whatever it was, it wasn't moving -

* * *

><p>Poppy and Minerva jumped when they heard the cry of agony and distress that echoed through the empty corridors. Poppy looked to Minerva, "It's Albus - "<p>

They hurtled back along the passageway, wands drawn, looking into the living room. "Albus?"

They could see their friend, kneeling behind the sofa, head bowed and some sort of terrible groaning sound falling from his lips. "Albus - are you hurt?" Minerva whispered, as Poppy surveyed the room, unable to see any threat.

Minerva edged closer, "Albus?"

Poppy crossed to her side and they both looked to see what was wrong with their friend.

Minerva grasped Poppy's arm tight as she saw first - and Poppy finally understood -

Albus was holding a pile a of black robes and white skin and red smears.

Something that had _once_ been a person.

* * *

><p>"It won't open." Arthur twisted the door handle violently - "It's enchanted - it won't open."<p>

The five people gathered in the room looked around warily, Hermione gripping Ron's arm so her knuckles had turned almost white. Harry let out a breath he did not know he had been holding as they waited in the silence.

"There must be another way out." Remus murmured, moving toward the window. He pulled back the curtain and jumped back in near horror - Hermione shrieked as a severed hand, decayed and decomposing, fell to the floor with a thud and lay still. Ron put his arm around her shoulders to calm her, Harry touching her lower arm too. Remus recovered himself, "We need to get out of here."

"We'll try to blast the door down - stand back, you three." Arthur gestured to the three younger wizards, who had seen all sorts of horrors during the war yet still felt unsettled by Riddle Mansion - the very presence of Voldemort, no matter how lifeless his figure was - seemed to haunt every corner of the room.

Remus pointed his wand, "Confringo!"

His Blasting Curse hit the door - the door reverberated - but seemed undamaged - and instead, flames exploded across the walls around them, licking up the wooden beams and consuming the curtains and furniture.

"Damnit, Remus, do something!" Arthur shouted, attempting to put the flames out - but they would not quell - smoke billowed toward them and they started to cough -

* * *

><p>Poppy and Minerva stared at the crumpled Albus and the even more crumpled Severus - Minerva's eyes burning and Poppy feeling white anger sear her chest - they had been so sure.<p>

Albus drew back, just a little, robes and beard stained with red, tears easily leaking from his eyes as he tried to remember how to breathe.

Severus lay on his side.

Albus reached out and, after a moment to compose himself, carefully moved the other onto his back.

Poppy averted her gaze and Minerva's grip slackened as the smallest of cries forced itself from her mouth. Albus simply stared, unable to look away, unable to move, simply staring.

Poppy, a Healer and medi-witch, had dealt with injuries before and had seen much death and wounds through both her training and her career. She forced herself to swallow, her stomach suddenly unstable, and looked back toward what remained of Severus.

It was the eye sockets that frightened her the most - bloodied holes that gave way to access to the skull and muscles behind - lips that no longer resembled anything - and skin that was decaying and decomposed. It was only his hair and the half of his face that was not quite so bastardised that gave her any chance of recognition.

She gripped Minerva's hand to help her friend stay upright - "Albus..."

Albus still had not moved - and Poppy noticed something peculiar on his face. He seemed paralysed - paralysed with fear - but there was something - almost as if this was familiar to him.

As if he had seen it before.

It hit her.

* * *

><p>All five wizards and witches were still on their feet, desperately fighting the flames, eyes streaming, chests wracked with coughs - they were starting to win - Hermione had chosen an enchantment that produced a protective shield, helping them to survive the intense heat. Arthur was still working on the door - the flames had weakened the wood - and perhaps now they could get out.<p>

"I can't do this much longer!" Hermione's face was streaked with sweat and her wand hand was trembling. Harry was about to move - but Ron got there first, grabbing her wrist and putting his other arm around her waist, "We'll do it together - "

Remus and Arthur blasted their own curse at the door, and the wood finally gave way. "Everyone out!"

Hermione wrenched her arm away and the waves of heat pummelled them - but that survival instinct helped them and they headed for the door, sprinting into the cold corridor and down the stairs, still coughing, eyes still tearing. Remus turned back to see the door seem to repair itself, but the flames came no further - it was nothing more than an enchantment - "Let's regroup with Albus and Minerva - " Arthur panted, "I don't think we should be split up in here."

* * *

><p>"Albus." Poppy murmured, "It's not real."<p>

Albus looked up at her, but he wasn't there.

Minerva glanced at her, "What?"

"It's his Boggart."

"How do you know?" Minerva's eyes were reddened and she was shaking, hand still wrapped inside Poppy's.

Poppy simply looked at Albus, "Because he's seen Severus like this before - you need to help me, Minerva..." She raised her wand, "I'm really sorry, Minerva..." She struck out at the figure of Severus, and dragged Albus away, despite how he tried to cling to the crumpled robes.

The body of Severus jerked as if on a string - Poppy held her breath - and it changed shape.

Minerva flinched, her wand in her hand, staring at a man - Poppy could not see his face - but she saw the fear flicker across Minerva's, before she remembered it was not real - it could not be real - and she shouted the counter curse for the Boggart.

When Minerva smiled and half laughed at whatever she had done to the Boggart, it wavered and flinched - she transfigured the sofa into a box and cast the Boggart inside, locking the lid and turning to face Poppy, still clutching Albus.

Albus seemed to finally return to the present time - "...That wasn't him..."

Poppy was concerned by just how much Albus was shaking. "It was a Boggart - Albus - let's get you up."

He shook his head, "I can't do this."

Both Poppy and Minerva looked at him, "What?"

"...I can't...I shouldn't have come...what if..."

Minerva knelt in front of Albus, taking his hands, "He's still alive, Albus. You know it and I know it - we can feel it - we'll find him, we'll rescue him, and then everything will be fine. I promise."

Albus nodded at her words, eyes still cast down to his lap. His breathing was faster than usual. Minerva looked up at Poppy, who simply shook her head - it was shock - there was nothing they could do - they just had to keep going.

Thudding footsteps signalled the arrival of the rest of their party, Arthur at the head. They looked relieved to see Albus, even if he was sat amongst the dust. Minerva stood to face them, "Anything?"

"Nothing aside from some dark fire that nearly claimed all of us." Remus offered.

"We had a Boggart." Minerva replied, glancing meaningfully at Albus who was now running one hand absentmindedly through his beard.

Harry watched him - he seemed defeated. "Professor?"

Albus raised his head. "Is there a throne room, here? I can see an ivory chair."

No one asked where he could see this, or why, they simply stood to attention - "Not that we've seen." Arthur answered, but Albus was already getting to his feet, "Then we keep looking."

* * *

><p>No more than ten minutes later, the small party had gathered by what seemed to be a wall. Except Albus was absolutely adamant there was something behind the wall - and Harry could feel it too. Almost like a shadow - but he could feel it.<p>

"Albus, if there is no door, how do we expect to enter?" Remus tried warily, but Albus seemed pleased by this discovery and did not snap - "There is always a door, Remus - we just have to find it. It could be password based."

"Or voice." Arthur offered. "It could be that you needed his voice."

"Or wand or hand - like at Gringotts." Hermione added too, "There could be all sorts of protection."

Ron glanced at Harry, "If there's a door at all." His voice was a low murmur.

Albus contemplated. "No. It's more subtle than that. It is not even Parseltongue. It has to be something only Riddle would know." He paused, continuing to stare at the door. "Everybody stand back." He drew his wand, and muttered something that the others could not hear.

Nothing happened.

Albus' eyes narrowed and his forehead creased, "Not this time, Tom. You have kept him from me for too long." His voice became firmer, harder, sharper - "I have defeated Tom Riddle - I mastered him - and by order of Merlin, he shall not stand between me and Severus Snape!"

The wall shuddered - and the door appeared.

The party exchanged stunned glances, but Albus was simply tucking his wand away, "It was 'Snape'. That was what he wanted." He opened the door and stepped into the room.

Directly opposite the frame was an ivory chair - every muscle in Albus' body stiffened -

_He saw the ivory chair, Lord Voldemort seated in its confines, wand raised. He lazily cast another curse and the figure at his feet flinched and jerked - there was half a scream - and then silence..._

"...Severus?"

The room was high ceilinged and dark - but Albus could tell it had been used recently as there was very little dust - there was no other furniture - just the chair.

_He saw the ivory chair, and the figure bound by wrist and ankles to its arms. Another man was knelt by the side of the throne, bloodied knife in hand, carefully and slowly prising fingernails from splayed fingers - and there were cries of pain from his prisoner - prisoner with dark hair and even darker eyes..._

He swallowed the foul acid that burned at the back of his throat.

Someone, somewhere to his left, whispered his name. It was Poppy.

Albus turned to see what she was indicating with a trembling hand. Her wand had highlighted something - no, someone - against the wall in the corner, body crumpled and half chained to the wall so he looked like he was sitting.

Albus crossed to him at a near sprint, his wand clattering to the floor beside him, "Severus!" Poppy was by him a moment later, looking Severus over before holding one hand before his mouth for a long moment. Albus watched her, his fingers clutching at the fabric of Severus' robe.

She looked back at him. "He's breathing. He's alive."

Albus felt some sort of relief grab his chest and he could have dissolved into sobs right there, but he didn't - he held himself composed - and instead pressed the back of one hand to Severus' cheek, "Get us a light."

Minerva conjured a lamp, casting a small flame inside and held it above the collapsed Severus. Albus examined his friend carefully - his robes were badly torn, hair dirty and face slackened by unconsciousness - bruising and scars were evident across the pale skin. Both his legs were lying at a strange angle, which had concerned Poppy more than Albus, who continued to observe. Severus' wrists were chained to the wall above him, and the hands were nothing more than reddened masses of flesh, and the noticeable absence of any nails. Albus swallowed, thinking back to the box in his office where Tom's 'tokens' were stored, "C-Can we get him out of these chains?" He could see from the small distance the damage the manacles had done to the sensitive skin underneath.

Remus obeyed the soft request, and Albus cast his gaze back to Severus' face, "Severus..."

Poppy was still frowning. "I think he is just asleep, Albus."

Albus looked across at her, "Can you wake him?"

"I don't want to - he should - " She trailed off as something that could have been a grimace flittered across Severus' face. "Never mind."

Albus kept his hand close to Severus, "Severus - it's Albus - we've come to get you out of here, my boy."

Remus managed to free Severus' wrists and the arms slumped to the ground. Albus examined the amount of damaged skin, trying not to recoil at Severus' hands. "Can you speak, my boy?" He murmured, fighting the trembles in his voice as he desperately craved even a whisper from Severus.

Black eyes fluttered open and Albus found himself looking down into irises he knew better than his own, and he managed a weak smile. "Hello..."

Severus didn't answer. He simply stared at Albus.

No. Just past Albus.

Poppy leaned forward. "Albus. He can't see you."

He glanced at her, "What do you mean, he can't see me?"

She paused before answering. "...It's part of the damage - I think he's paralysed - and he's blind."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Long Road**

_A short chapter tonight due to an unbelievable workload for me today!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>

"He's blind?" Albus repeated softly, looking back down at Severus, "Does he know I'm here?" His voice had become slightly frantic. Poppy was about to answer when Severus moved his head slightly in almost a nod. Albus smiled despite himself, "Can you speak, Severus?" There was some primal need, something paternal, that wanted to hear Severus' voice rooted deep inside his chest - it had been such a long six months...Severus looked away, eyes unfocused once more, and Albus understood that to be a negative. "No matter - let's get you out of here - once you are home you will feel much more at ease."

Poppy glanced at him sharply, "You mean St. Mungo's, Albus. He cannot be at Hogwarts."

"Whyever not, Poppy? He can have a private room in the Hospital Wing." Albus' voice was firm, but Poppy's was further firm, "Albus. I do not have the resources at Hogwarts for this - he may need constant care which cannot be provided in a school - there is no other option..."

"Poppy - he will not be imprisoned in another institution - no - he will stay with us. Hire someone from St. Mungo's if you have to." He gently ran two fingers through some of the knotted black strands that were caked in blood and dirt, watching Severus as he drifted away into a state of unconsciousness once more.

"I can't, Albus, be reasonable." Poppy tried, but Albus' gaze was practically a glare, "I'll stay with him all day and all night if I have to, Poppy. There is no discussion. He stays with us."

* * *

><p>Harry watched the scene before him, the way Professor Dumbledore was stroking Snape's hair, his face contorted with a mixture of worry and relief. He knew that the Headmaster had a great capacity for love, but until Snape had gone missing he had never associated that love with his cruel and sadistic Potions' Master - but while Harry stared at this man who had once been the master of the dungeons, and saw how he lay in a crumpled heap, and heard how Poppy stated he could not see or move or even able speak - he felt something close to pity and sympathy and hatred for Voldemort - he wanted to know precisely what had been done to the Potions teacher, because he could feel the evil in this room - the scent of blood - and he had known that Voldemort could do terrible things when he was angry - and he realised that he understood how Professor Dumbledore felt. And he was relieved too - relieved that Snape was apparently alive.<p>

* * *

><p>The room was small and clean, with cream walls and white stone floors, A window overlooked the lake and forest, currently concealed by bright, friendly looking curtains. The bedside table had two drawers and a light stood upon the varnished surface. The dark red armchair was currently occupied by Albus who was carefully dabbing a piece of wet cloth to a particularly deep cut across Severus' upper right arm and shoulder. Poppy was fussing with some potions on the trolley in the corner, while their patient lay motionless on top of the covers, head turned to one side, eyes closed.<p>

In the Hospital Wing's bright daylight, Severus did not look well. Albus was sure that not one part of his body had been left untouched - he was covered in bruises and scars and gashes that were not even half healed, reopened time and time again to inflict more damage. Dirt and dried blood was a layer on top of his skin. Albus was concerned about the patches of hair that were missing, leaving bare scalp behind. Parts of what had once been Death-Eater robes were embedded so deep in the open wounds that they could not be removed. Poppy had determined that at least six ribs were badly broken, as well as most of the bones in his hands and right leg. Albus was struggling to tear his eyes from Severus' left arm, where the Dark Mark had once marred flesh. The Mark was now gone, but the exposed muscles and bones remained, the red liquid that remained in a crusted substance around the gaping wound stained with black - dark magic had infected the fluid that ran paths around Severus' very body. He would be in pain. So much pain. Albus was almost thankful for the unconsciousness. He refocused his attention on Severus' shoulder, soothing and gentle.

Poppy turned back finally, "Something for the pain - he's dehydrated and I imagine half starved." She observed him for a moment, "I dread to think what state he may be in when we remove the rest of his robes."

Albus looked at her, "How do you mean - state?"

She hesitated before answering, "Infection. I can't imagine that his personal hygiene was attended to when he was imprisoned." She paused again, "Also. I assume none of the abuse was of an...intimate...nature."

Albus' face lost all colour, "No. No. That could not have happened, Poppy - please - "

"It is just a theory, Albus, because we have to consider all options. It was six months, after all." She wetted her finger with the potion and touched the moisture to Severus' dry and cracked bottom lip, "Let's give him some time to come round." She moved back to her trolley as Albus watched Severus closely, "Do you think he knows we're here?" He murmured, "He might have forgotten - he might think I am just a dream..."

"We will know nothing further until he wakes, Albus. I have sent a call to St. Mungo's to see if they will send a Healer to us - Severus is, after all, a small hero." Poppy smiled slightly at the unaware Severus, before sobering, "Albus. I do need to look for infection."

Albus stiffened, "I can't do that. He would not want me to do that."

"Then go and get changed - " She gestured to his bloodstained robes, "Come back when you are ready."

"I don't want to leave him." Albus whispered, hesitant.

"He will not be going anywhere, Albus." Poppy reasoned gently, "Please - go and clean yourself up - if you are insisting on staying with Severus, it may be the last chance you will have."

Albus stood, still seemingly unable to leave Severus' bedside. He watched his friend - "Look at him."

Poppy could not judge the tone of voice, "We can make him better, Albus."

"No." Albus' voice trembled, "Look at him."

Poppy watched Severus, "He's sleeping."

Albus reached out and tenderly stroked Severus' cheek, "He's breathing. After six months - six months of searching - he's breathing, Poppy." He slumped back into the chair, still touching Severus, his voice shaking and his eyes suddenly flooded with tears, "He's alive..."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Long Road**

_It has just struck me that I have written over ninety stories about THESE IDIOTS. *Gets emotional* I love them so much. Thank you so much for sticking with me and listening my little tales for so long - roll on the big 100! 100 stories in two years._

_The phrase 'get a life' seems relevant here…_

_Much love, always. ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>

"How about I let you have a few moments together?" Poppy murmured, watching as Albus recovered himself and leaned closer to Severus, stroking his hair gently. "Please, Poppy. I just want…" He trailed off and shook his head instead. Poppy simply smiled and closed the door behind her. Albus propped himself up on one hand and examined Severus who still seemed to be sleeping. "I'm here, my boy. I will fix you. I will make you better." He wanted, so badly, to take Severus' hand and squeeze the fingers and show him - but Poppy had suggested he wouldn't be able to feel his hands, so it would be pointless. He continued to stroke the black strands of hair, ignoring how they stuck to his fingers - it was Severus - no matter how many pieces of him were missing or damaged, it was still him - and Albus would make him better. He would put Severus back together and help him. "I have missed you so much…" He whispered.

Severus stirred slightly. Albus smiled at him more fully, moving his fingers to Severus' forehead, missing the bruising across his hairline and smoothing the lines creased his brow when Severus frowned and turned his head to one side. Albus felt the relief bloom in his chest but he stayed still, despite the sudden need to sweep Severus into his arms and hold him tight. "Come back to me, my boy, just for a moment."

Severus' eyes flickered open and he winced. Albus looked into those dark irises and knew that still, Severus could not see him - but he was there. "Do you know I'm here? It's real - it's not a dream…" Severus turned slightly at the sound of Albus' voice and Albus let his hand fall away, staying in eye contact with those eyes. He wanted to examine the emotions that lay there, but there seemed to be very little - the eyes were almost empty - as if Severus was too tired to express anything, or to feel anything. But perhaps he was just so weak - and Albus could help him with that. "Hello." He greeted softly, and it seemed that he could have a conversation. Severus tried to respond, he saw that, but nothing came out of vocal chords that were too raw to even produce a whisper. Albus held up a hand to stop him, realised Severus could not see, and instead spoke, "It's fine. Don't try to answer - there will be time enough for that - as long as you know that I am here, Severus, that is all that matters to me." He paused, "I thought you were dead - long gone - but here you are. You can get better, you can fight. I know it. You are so brave, Severus. I am so proud of you."

And he was proud - he was proud that Severus had defied Voldemort and remained alive and had fought long enough for Albus to find him - "You should never have been there - I should have stopped you." Being confronted with Severus now made him feel so terribly guilty - he wanted to turn back the clock and prevent him from going that night and force him to stay. "I could have lost you - but you are alive." He was still struggling to accept that fact. "What can I tell you?" Black irises still open, lingering near his face, so Albus knew he was listening. "Voldemort is dead. Harry and I. We killed him - it was a few days ago now, but he is definitely dead. Then we came to rescue you. Nymphadora and Remus are having a child together - did you know that? I don't remember how long ago they announced the news - but it must be quite soon. I've always noticed a romance budding between Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger − as you suggested so many years ago now! You always were right about these things." He trailed off, "I am so glad you are here with me." He murmured softly, knowing he was probably rambling but seeming desperate to tell Severus everything - to fill the silence - to let him hear his voice so he knew he was safe - "Severus." He paused, "Do you know what the first thing a wizard does in the morning?"

The shadow of a frown on that face he knew so well and had not forgotten.

"He wakes up." Albus half laughed at his own joke, reflecting on a time when Severus had not been a prisoner and they had shared many conversations designed to see who could laugh first - it was one of the quirks of their friendship and Severus was, admittedly, very good at making Albus laugh. Albus tried again, "Which magical beast can jump higher than the Hogwarts Express?" Another pause, and then Albus answered, "Any, the Hogwarts Express can't jump…"

He saw, for a second, the tiniest smile on Severus' lips and knew then that Severus, his Severus, lingered amongst the broken bones and bruises and wounds. "How about this one - you'll like this one - how do you keep a wizard in suspense?" He lingered longest on this question, letting his hand stroke Severus' forehead again. "Oh, I'll tell you tomorrow…" He smiled and Severus did so too, showing his slightly crooked teeth that Albus had come to adore, "I win - I made you laugh." Albus murmured gently, his voice crumpling slightly.

Severus' eyes continued to watch him and Albus was under the distinct impression Severus could 'see' him - there was something sparkling now in those black eyes - "Don't. You'll start me off - don't you think I have shed enough tears for you, Severus Snape?"

Severus turned his face away for a moment, and closed his eyes - but Albus still saw the tear slip from underneath his eyelashes and he swept it away with one finger. "Severus doesn't cry, remember? If he cries, he gets a hug, and he doesn't ever want a hug."

Severus turned back to look at him and his eyes were still sparkling and tears were still leaking and Albus suddenly knew what to do. He leant forward and gathered Severus into his arms - hugging him - and Severus stirred just slightly - almost…

Almost as if he was trying to hug Albus back.

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><p><em>This made me cry for the tenth time today. ~ SS19<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**The Long Road**

_I'm trying very hard to make this story about recovery. It's difficult, so any advice would be very much appreciated!_

_~SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong>

_"Severus?"_

_But it seemed Severus could not hear him, or see him, or feel him - he stayed where he was, sat against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees in the near total darkness, face hidden against his thighs. Albus moved closer, wanting to reach out to him, but his arm felt heavy and it was difficult to lift, "Severus - it's Albus - I'm here." He tried to move closer again but his legs seemed to be caught in quicksand, or perhaps a swamp, and he was finding it difficult to walk, too. "Severus! Severus, look at me!" But Severus still did not stir, and it was very dark where he was sat, and Albus could hear screaming and sobbing as if it was inside his very skull, yet he knew the voice - "I'm coming - I'll find you - I'll help you - " But he still couldn't move, and Severus was smaller and smaller and further away and Albus could not help him - could not stop him - could not save him - "Severus!"_

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><p>"Albus!" A voice broke through his dream and his eyes flew open. He looked up into the concerned face of Poppy Pomfrey, who was sat on the side of Severus' bed. Albus took some time to work out where he was, and pulled himself together, glancing at Severus. His friend was awake, gaze slightly narrowed as it rested on Albus' face, and Albus wondered if perhaps he could see…<p>

"You were crying out to Severus - you woke him up." Poppy admonished, voice soft. She paused, "Was it the nightmares, again?"

Slightly embarrassed and ruffled, Albus shifted position, "It is always the same." He looked to Severus, who was still watching him, silent and pale - "But you're here." He was not about to explain the dream to Severus or Poppy - otherwise he was sure an appointment would be arranged for him at St Mungo's, and they would deem completely insane. Why was he still dreaming about Severus, when Severus was here? It was just the image of Severus, not hearing him or seeing him, trapped in that darkness and seeming so young and small and afraid - it chilled him to his very core. "I apologise for waking you, Severus, my dear boy. It was not my intention."

Severus' eyes flickered back to Poppy. Poppy smiled in an almost motherly way, "I suppose I ought to take a look at the rest of you, Severus. See what other damage has been done." She was clearly expecting - well - they both expected Severus to spit something close to an insult, but instead he just turned his face away to the window. Albus played with his sleeve, "Should I stay for that?"

"That is up to Severus." Poppy answered, knocked slightly by the fact Severus was still silent and submissive - she supposed she too had been hoping for a miracle, much as that was against her nature. "Severus? Do you mind if Albus stays?" No noticeable response for Severus, who continued to stare at the curtains. She glanced at Albus, who stood and cleared his throat, "I will…go and change, I think. Eat something." He needed to shake himself out of this - the nightmare always did this to him, every night - every single night…

Poppy nodded and smiled in his general direction, "Come back when you have had at least one hot meal, Headmaster. I will not be impressed if you start to starve yourself too." She was trying to keep the mood light, because she thought that might help Albus and their incapacitated patient. When Albus had disappeared, she moved into Severus' direct eye-line, "Don't make me tickle you to get a reaction, Severus." Still nothing. She pulled the blanket back and checked some of her work from the past two days, pressing a hand to a particularly painful gash across his ribcage that had opened many layers of skin and muscle for perusal. The pressure made Severus wince, and he inhaled steeply - and then flinched. Poppy felt it more than she saw it - Severus' pulse quickened considerably and his breathing hitched - any remaining colour disappeared from his face and if he had been able to move, Poppy was sure he would have crawled away. She withdrew her hand immediately, alarmed when blood started to ooze from her own dressing, "Shush, Severus…it's me…it's Poppy, I'm trying to help…" Her voice was soothing and gentle but it was not enough, Severus' eyes were screwed tightly shut and Poppy wasn't sure what to - her own Healer instincts leapt into action when she realised Severus was going to throw up - before she had fully formulated the action in her mind, she had pulled Severus into a sitting position and caught him so he wouldn't be able to choke on - well, whatever it was he was able to expel from his stomach. He slumped against her, breathing still rapid, and she simply put one arm around his shoulders and held him close. "I'm sorry, Severus. I'm so sorry."

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><p>"How is he?" Albus had changed into slightly more subdued robes in very pale blue, not because he preferred them but because a certain wizard who only liked black had once expressed a fondness for forget-me-nots and Albus thought these robes were close in colour. He lingered in the doorway, speaking to Poppy, who was sat at a makeshift desk, reading her parchment notes. "It's not good, Albus." She murmured, "I had to put him to sleep to examine him properly - I think the scent of blood physically repulses him, he had a rather violent reaction to me earlier - but the damage is…I don't know if he will walk again, Albus. He's very weak - he's starved and I don't want to feed him anything because I do not think his stomach, which has been abused beyond belief, would be able to cope with it. I do not know what he has been fed - or drunk - but it can't have been clean, there's infections and I do not think he would be even able to keep water down. I'm surprised he is alive at all. His hygiene is appalling but I can't give him a bath until he is at least conscious, and that seems to be problematic." She paused, shaking her head, "I'm not sure what to suggest as the next course of action, Albus, and I am sorry for that."<p>

Albus leaned against the doorway, exhaling slowly. "I think it is more difficult to hear you say that then it is to look at Severus - but we cannot give up hope - we know how strong Severus is. He has managed this far, has he not?"

"Yes but I don't think he will hang on much longer." Poppy buried her head in her hands, and Albus heard something like a sob force itself from her lips. "We need a miracle, Albus."

"I'm fresh out of miracles, Poppy." Albus snapped, and then instantly regretted his words. "I'm sorry, Poppy. I am so sorry. Here." He crossed to her and put his arms around her shoulders. "You're doing so well, Poppy, you really are…"

She sniffed and pulled away, "I'm sorry - I'm not normally like this - I just…I know what you went through to find him, Albus. And I just…I wish that he was fine, and you and he could be reunited, and there would be none of this torment…"

"I know. I know. But he's here, with us - and that's all that matters to me. Because I know here, he's in the safest hands he could possibly be." Albus pressed a hand to her shoulder, and she smiled at him, "You really do love him, don't you?"

"More than anything."

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><p><em>Do. Love. Him. Don't. You.<em>

It felt as though he was receiving the words with gaps in between, like a radio with static from his days as a child. _More. Than. Anything. _The voices were distorted and echoic and he wasn't quite sure he comprehended the meaning behind the words, because he had not received them as a full sentence.

_I know._

_I just want him. To be better._

That was easier. He could understand that. Those words he could understand. Someone wanted him to get better.

He wanted to get better. He just didn't know how. He didn't know how to make his body work again.

Until then, he could only simply lie here.

Listening to the echoing.

_You really do love him don't you?_

Never before had he wished so badly that he could speak. Because then he would be able to answer.

_I. Love. You. Too._


	6. Chapter 6

**The Long Road**

**_Update: _**_ Huge thanks to those who pointed out my loss of paragraphs - they have now been restored. ~ SS19_**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong>

"We need to talk about this situation, Albus - we really do. Would you consider speaking with a Healer at St Mungo's?" Poppy had been trying this line of inquiry for at least half an hour now, phrasing the request politely at first yet becoming more and more blunt until she had finally asked in words of nearly one syllable. Albus, for his part, had not moved from his chair beside Severus. He was listening to her, she could tell, from the way the fingers that were tenderly stroking Severus' hair as their patient lay in some sort of trance were tensing whenever she asked the question. But he would not respond - and she understood why - Albus would never abandon Severus to St Mungo's, and would rather he stayed at Hogwarts. But staying at Hogwarts could no longer be an option - she did not have the resources or the time or even the knowledge to begin treating Severus - she desperately needed another expert to speak with and decide which was the best route to pursue. If there was a route - she had not mentioned the subject to Albus, but somewhere inside her heart she wondered if this was futile. As a Healer, she could never willingly let someone die, and she would always fight to sustain life - where it was possible. But the more she examined Severus, and the longer she spent in his company - she saw no signs of change, in fact, the other was simply growing weaker because he could not eat to build energy and his body would begin to give up. She was surprised that he remained alive even now - but she imagined it was something to do with Severus' stubbornness rather than his physical condition. But was it possible to mend him? Was it possible to bring him back to life, and even if they did, would he ever be able to walk again? To see, and to talk? They could not ask Severus what state his mind was in - they could not determine if, in the darkness of his cell, he had become insane - that was possible, too. She had dealt with torture victims before, but never ones such as Severus - never ones who had been imprisoned for six months with no light, and hardly any food or drink - and only Lord Voldemort and his darkness to cling to. She doubted that Severus was still Severus - intact and intelligent and intolerably sarcastic. "Albus?"

Albus finally glanced at her, "I will not place Severus in St Mungo's, Poppy - and you know that well. He needs to be here. In his home."

She nearly responded, but decided against it - Albus was about as determined and stubborn as his unwell counterpart, and when he had made a decision it was often impossible to dissuade him otherwise. This matter was especially important to him - and Poppy knew that. Like all her colleagues, they had seen the impact Severus' disappearance had had on their leader, and she was not one to destroy whatever hope Albus was clinging to. She lowered her hand and headed to the door, knowing Albus would probably not notice her exit. If she could not persuade him, then perhaps someone else could.

Albus glanced toward the door when he heard it close, and considered that he perhaps could have been less sharp when replying to Poppy. But in truth, the idea of forcing Severus into St Mungo's frightened him. It was selfish, Albus knew that, but he wanted Severus here. With him. Those six months had hurt him - none of his colleagues would understand how much he had _missed_ Severus - they did not understand how close they had become in the fifteen years of their friendship, and although people assumed Severus relied on Albus, there was a reverse effect too. Albus needed Severus - and during the war, before he had been made a prisoner, Severus had been his closest counsel and advisor. To lose that, his advice and his knowledge and his realistic, perceptive viewpoint, had shaken Albus. To have him back, even in this shadow of his once self, was better than having no Severus at all. Of that, Albus was certain. He watched Severus' chest rise and fall for a moment, using that as evidence that his friend was indeed alive. He had seen so much death and destruction, and had lost so many people who meant something to him. All he wanted, this time, was to be able to fix someone - and to not have to stand beside a marble tomb or before a granite headstone and make a speech about the things they had done and the worth and the meaning and the importance of the bones - he wanted, just once, for someone to survive. Someone whom he had destroyed. He stopped stroking Severus' hair and leaned forward, "Severus. I know you're listening. Do you remember that time, when we were on the London Underground that time? We were attempting to Christmas shop in Muggle London - you knew your way around and I was disguised as a slightly younger man. You had to tell me, rather bluntly, that it just wasn't the done thing to use the scar on my knee to navigate the crisscrossing tunnels." He smiled at the memory himself, "I did wonder why people were looking at us oddly, but assumed it was because you were wearing something other than black."

He let the smile fade, "That's one of the earliest memories I have of you and I, as we are now, rather than sullen student and biased Headmaster. Us when we were - starting on the path to being friends. Do you remember when you finally succumbed and agreed to have tea with me, on a Sunday afternoon? I thought the day would never come, yet there you were in my doorway. I was pleasantly surprised - I think you were too. Of course, it took a little while before we started to talk, but once we got through the initial awkwardness and confusion…I think we both realised we had more in common than we first thought. You entertained me for at least an hour with your scathing reviews of various Potioneers in those journals you read - you have such a wonderful sense of humour, my boy." He hesitated. "That was never a condescending term, Severus - at first, it was just a slip of the tongue. I never called you 'my boy' in public, I did not want you to feel as if you were a puppet of mine, or if you belonged to me, because in those early days you insisted that you owed me your life and that you were nothing more than a servant - which was never, ever the case. But as we drew closer and things started to fall into place - the words drew more meaning than they first appeared. You were mine, because I would have done anything to protect you, and I would have killed anyone who so much as harmed you. I began to see you as my own child, as I do Harry now - that I was proud of you when you accomplished something, and that when you fell, I did too."

His voice had thickened and he took a moment to compose himself, because he had never told Severus these things, and would never have been able to if the other had been conscious, but something was compelling him to talk and to carry on talking, because he wanted to tell Severus everything - so that if the other never opened his eyes again, at least he would know. "When you were gone, it took me a few weeks to adjust to the initial change. Sometimes I would turn to speak to you and you would not be there. That helped in the first few days - when your chair was empty, I simply convinced myself that you had slept late, or you were brewing, and I would be able to visit you in your rooms. Except, when I did so, your room was empty and your bed had not been slept in and your cauldron was empty. The owls continued delivering your journals to the table, every morning a different one, and I thought about writing to the editor to tell him that you - his anonymous contributor - wasn't there to read them. Instead I let them pile up on your desk, I took them down every day, as if it was a small ritual. I still had our Sunday tea, too - not quite as insane as to pour two cups of tea, but I made sure I would not be interrupted in that time, and I would let my mind dwell on the good times and not what could be happening to you in that very moment, what Tom could be doing to you."

He shook his head, not realising that his fingers were connected with Severus' shoulder, "Our friends and colleagues did not know how to be when they were speaking to me. I was in denial for a fair time, Severus dear - I would mention you in conversation as if you were still here, or simply on holiday - and they would pause and look to me twice, as if determining my mood. Some would brush it off, some would remind me that you were not here with us. But between my nightmare and all those things - the journals, the empty chair, the times when I would turn my head because there was a flicker of something out of the corner of my eye - and see nothing - it seemed as if you were still there. When I would talk to you in my office and realise mid-paragraph that you were not sat opposite me with your feet up on the table in front of you and your head buried in a book."

He paused for a minute at least, considering his own emotions and wondering just how he had survived the past six months. Severus still did not stir - he remained unconscious, breathing slow and shallow. Albus wanted to shake him back into reality, to force him to contribute to the conversation somehow, "Do you remember Valentine's Day, four years ago? Oh, how I wound you up with Gilderoy and those cards I insisted on sending to you throughout the day - all signed from your secret admirer, except you knew that the handwriting was mine. Your revenge was rather ingenious, though. I feared for my life for several weeks, afterward. Do you realise that, in your absence, you missed the time to apply for Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? I rather missed your application - I know that you would never truly want the position until you were sure that Voldemort was gone, but before that, you applied for every year just to see how many insults of my character and honour you could get into one paragraph on your form. They certainly provided a good laugh, Severus. How about that time when we bumped into each other in the library in the early hours of the morning - and both of us were up to no good - and it was one of the most convoluted and prolonged conversations of my life - "

He was laughing, but there were tears in his eyes too and they were threatening to spill, "Do you know how much I have missed you? I have missed how you can make me laugh with one glance or glare or sarcastic comment. I have missed how you have always been at my side, ready to support me when I needed it and to offer your voice to my cause. How you defended me before the Minister, before those who would seek to destroy me - not because you had to, not even because you wanted to - but because it was involuntary and subconscious. Afterward, you could not explain what had made you stand in front of me and politely warn the Minister that as an ex-Death-Eater you had several skills that could come in handy and information that could ruin his career. You just did. I miss my Severus - the player who was so incredibly competitive over chess and would make me play for days and nights until you had won, because you simply could not retire as a loser - determined to beat me and to learn all my strategies. The lecturer who received that standing ovation at the end of your presentation about the Draght of the Living Dead, and I was there too, applauding the loudest and feeling my eyes sting with those tears of pride and a job well done, and the slightest flush to your cheeks as you didn't quite know how to receive the attention and the compliments. The philosopher who challenged my own opinions and views and demanded that I viewed life and death in a new light. The comedian who massacred every predict Sybil had ever made, and is actually a very good impressionist - but only behind closed doors. I miss when you used to storm into my office and rage about Harry Potter and his latest misdemeanour, the way you would defend your Slytherins to the death, the way you were never afraid to air your disagreement with me. And I miss you when you were at your most vulnerable and you would let your mask slip and I would see your true self, your own emotions warring away and your eyes would sparkle and you would swear to me that you would not cry while your voice gathered a tremble and your hands began to shake and you would let me pull you into my arms and hold you close - and just once, you would give in and let yourself be looked after instead of constantly looking after me."

He swiped the tear away and leaned closer to Severus, "I would give anything to hear your voice, Severus. Even if it was angry or choked with sobs or filled with impassiveness - I would sacrifice everything else, just to hear your voice again."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Long Road**

_As you can tell, I am back in my Albus and Severus phase thanks to getting my hands on the new DVD. I can tell you my favourite scene now - some will have already guessed - it is when Severus is examining Albus' hand. There is a moment when they are sat beside each other, and my heart leapt and somersaulted for joy. My boys, together on the big screen - fine, they argued for the most of it - but that does not matter. All that matters is that they are together, and that makes me happy! As for this story, I think we need what happens next. This author, who is all cried out at the moment, certainly does. ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>

"Albus. I have speaking to Poppy." Minerva McGonagall's greeting to Albus was short and not particularly affectionate - but she had been speaking to the matron for a good half an hour about Severus' condition and understood the severity of the situation and the stubbornness that Albus was exhibiting. Poppy was concerned that Albus' determination to keep Severus here at Hogwarts would end up destroying the younger man. "Albus, we had a suggestion to put to you."

Albus was sat by a conscious Severus, book in hand, although he had looked up when she had entered. "I'm listening."

"You are beginning to upset Poppy - but, she wants to help Severus the best she can. We all do. She suggested that, if you could get Severus to eat and drink something, she would allow him to stay at Hogwarts - otherwise - " She hesitated, "Albus, she is trying. But she knows, and I think you do too, that St Mungo's is the best place for Severus, where there are professional healers with much more experience than we do, here. She is worried that if Severus does not eat anything, he will not have enough energy to keep fighting."

"He can hear you, Minerva." Albus said softly.

"Good, because I hope that means he can hear the desperation in my voice - we don't want to lose him, and we mean that, Albus." Minerva responded quickly, and she knew her words had finally penetrated Albus' protective haze. "I understand, Minerva. What does she recommend?"

"Something with some nutritious content but that which is easy to swallow - soup, maybe. Just a little bit. Will you need any help?"

Albus smiled at Severus, who was staring at the ceiling and not indicating whether he was paying attention to the conversation or not. "No. Severus and I will manage just fine, thank you, Minerva."

She turned to leave, but he stood and went to her. He took her hands, "Minerva. I am sorry. I have been caught up in Severus and I have not realised that my careless words have upset and unsettled Poppy. She understands, of course, the importance of Severus recovering."

"We all do, Albus. That is what we all want. We want to help, but you are pushing us away as if you expect us to cause Severus harm - when we would do anything to help you and he. We can sit with Severus, read to him, whichever you would like. Please do not think you have to go through this alone because you almost certainly do not. We are here for you, as your friends and as friends of Severus."

Albus was touched by her words and his eyes stung with the seemingly ever-present tears, "Thank you, Minerva. If I cannot convince Severus to eat something, I will ask for him to be transferred to St Mungo's." He smiled at her, "I appreciate your help. I do. I will find a way to express that. All I want is to fix Severus."

"And we will, Albus. We will find a way." She left the room and closed the door quietly behind her. Albus turned and contemplated Severus. "Are you awake, Severus, or simply pretending to be?" He was not expecting a response, but there was still disappointment when Severus' eyes simply flickered in his direction - and they still did not meet his figure. Albus lowered himself to sit beside Severus, conjuring a glass of water. "We'll do this slowly, Severus. Poppy is right, you are hungry and thirsty and your body must be running on empty. When was the last time you ate? Do you remember?"

No response.

Albus placed the water down on the table next to the bed and brushed a hand against Severus' cheek. "I'll help you to sit up and you can lean against me. After that, you will have to forgive me as it will be a little bit of an indignity - but trust me, it will help to make you better, my dear." Severus still did not respond to him, so Albus took that to be a sign to continue. He carefully straightened Severus into an upright position, leaning the thin and dilapidated body against his chest and wrapping one arm around Severus' lower back as a comfort. "All right?" He asked, and was surprised when Severus nodded slowly. Albus smiled, "Excellent. Now. You need to trust me. It's a glass of water - I am going to put it to your mouth and you need to take a tiny sip, and swallow. Very simple."

The reaction was instantaneous. Severus cowered. Albus looked at him, "What is it? It's just water, I promise, Severus."

Severus shook his head and turned his face away from the sound of Albus' voice. Albus, hurt and worried, reached out and carefully turned Severus' face back to his, 'You need to drink this, Severus. Please. It's just water, you need to sooth your throat and then you need to eat something otherwise you are not going to make it."

Still a negative response from Severus, who if he had been able to move would have most likely been across the other end of the room by now. Albus tightened his grip, worried that Severus was going to hurt himself. He could feel Severus' heartbeat pounding against his ribcage and began to panic himself, "Severus. Calm down. It's Albus. I would never harm you and I need to save you - you need to drink this - please, for Merlin's sake, would you drink the water?" Emotion, raw and powerful had infected his tone but it seemed to have an effect. Severus relaxed, just slightly, and allowed Albus to place the glass against his lips. "Gently now." Albus reassured, slowly tipping the glass so Severus could take a small sip. He dabbed the sleeve of his robe to the small tendril of water that Severus missed, and watched as abused and forgotten throat muscles remembered how to swallow.

"Is that all right?" He felt like he needed to constantly reassure Severus, encourage him, tempt him to keep going and to keep up some level of communication between them. He smiled at Severus and let him take another mouthful, feeling as though he was nursing a sick child. "Very good, Severus. I'm impressed." One day he would find out why the water had frightened Severus so very terribly - but right now, Severus seemed content and secure - and Albus knew that there was still a fight ahead of them. Convincing Severus to eat something would be difficult. "Do you think you can eat something too, Severus? Give yourself a little helping hand - I don't know what Voldemort fed you when you were his house guest, but it won't be as nice as my chicken soup, as you know well." Albus' chicken soup recipe was legendary in Hogwarts for being the best for making ill students and staff feel better - and it was a personal favourite of Severus'. That was how Albus knew there was something very wrong when Severus shook his head. "Now, now, Severus - you have never refused my chicken soup before." Even when Severus refused to eat anything else, Albus could always tempt him. "I know you think you are not hungry, but you need to try. I am asking for - let's say - five mouthfuls. That's all. We can do it as slowly as you like - but we need to get through five."

Fear, unadulterated, in those irises. What had Voldemort done to him? He clenched his arms and pulled Severus tighter against him, "I know you're not happy, Severus. But the only way I can fix you, the only way I can make you better, is to help you to eat something. I won't lose you Severus. I cannot lose you. Please, try. For me."

Severus was shivering. Albus pressed a kiss to his hairline, "Please, Severus." He uttered against Severus' forehead, wanting more than anything to feel Severus' fists clench against his robes, hearing shallow breathing. "Can you trust me, Severus, or did he take that from you too?" He summoned the bowl of soup, hoping the smell would help - and in fact, Severus did shift position slightly when the familiar scent touched his senses. "You remember it, then?"

A slow nod.

"Shall we try one spoonful, and we'll see what happens? It's only a little bit warm so it shouldn't hurt."

Another nod.

Albus took a tiny bit of the soup by putting it on the spoon, wanting to laugh when Severus attempted to move his hand and then feeling the stab of pain as the other realised he couldn't quite do that, either. "Not quite yet, Severus. Not quite yet." His eyes were stinging again as he considered Severus, but he fought them away and instead focused on the spoon. "Ready? Here comes…ah…the Hogwarts Express…coming into Hogsmeade Station." He was rewarded with what could have been a glare in the direction of his voice and the fact Severus accepted the spoonful, much to Albus' delight. "See, not difficult, is it, my dear boy? Well done. Only four more to go, and then I will let you sleep." He stroked a soothing pattern against Severus' back as the other swallowed and contemplated the taste of the soup. Albus doubted he was experiencing it in all its glory at the moment, but at least he had had some soup. He readied another spoonful and waited until Severus nodded to show that he was ready and willing to be fed soup once again. "I should relish this moment." Albus smiled, "Not very often I am allowed to nurse you like this, is it, my dear boy?"

Severus was possibly too ambitious on the next spoonful - and he started coughing. Albus helped him to sit straighter, rubbing his back, "Severus! I am so sorry!" He dabbed a cloth to Severus' mouth as the other fell back against him, head resting against Albus' shoulder. "Maybe that's enough for today, do you think, Severus?" He could still feel Severus trembling and rested his chin against Severus' hair. "What are we going to do with you? I'm sorry, Severus - I honestly thought there would be a way to quickly fix this situation, but there isn't. You are trapped in your world, separated from mine and there is nothing I can do about it…"

"Stop…waffling…"

Albus stiffened. "…Sev…Severus?"

"Not…your…fault." The voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper - but it was a voice and it belonged to Albus' dearest. He pulled away to look into Severus' face, "You're talking."

"Ten…points…for…observation." It was slow. The syllables were slurred and drawn together so it took Albus a moment to truly figure out what he was saying. But he did not need to understand. Tears spilled from his eyes and he did not try to hide them - "My boy…"

The smallest of smiles from Severus, "I…" He swallowed and grimaced. Albus pressed a hand to his cheek, "Don't force it - "

"No. I…missed…you." Severus managed. "So…much…"

Albus was silent, trying to hear every word.

"I…" Severus continued, "I…will…fight…for…you…" He paused and took in a breath, "I…I…lo…" He was struggling, but Albus, selfish though it was, wanted to hear the words himself. "Yes?"

"Ove…you…

Through blurred vision, Albus watched as Severus' eyes flickered closed and he drifted away into sleep. He couldn't help the smile as he leaned forward and murmured against Severus' ear. "I love you, too. I missed you, Severus - and I will fight for you. Even if it is the most difficult thing in my life - I will fight for you, every step of the way."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Long Road**

_I have set aside a good three hours to write this chapter as I imagine it will take quite some time! Apologies if it makes anyone uncomfortable or is hard to read - please, if it does, consider how hard it must have been for the writer…especially a writer who is in love with both these characters! ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>

"Did you manage to persuade Severus to eat something, Albus?" Poppy asked, almost tentatively. Albus glanced at her, "I did." He was watching the sunrise through the window, away from Severus, who was dozing in his bed. Poppy smiled at this, in relief more than anything, "Well done. I imagine it must have been hard for you - and him." She crossed to Severus and examined him, "His breathing does sound stronger."

Albus was still watching the brightening sky, "He spoke to me, yesterday. He did not say very much, but he spoke to me. He's still fighting, Poppy. Please let him stay here. I don't want to put him in St Mungo's. I do not think it will benefit him in any way." His tone was almost pleading. Poppy regarded him, "You mean it will not benefit you? Albus, I am doing my absolute best - we need Severus to help us, though, and he seems unable to do this in his current state. He is too weak."

Albus shifted position uncomfortably, "I do not know what else to suggest, Poppy." His voice was trembling slightly, "I do not know how to fix him, and that hurts me more than seeing him like this." He continued to gaze dejectedly out of the window, "For all my magical power and ambiguity, I cannot mend the one thing I care for most in this world. What use is my knowledge when it cannot help Severus?"

Poppy knew that she needed to reassure Albus, but even she was not sure of a way to do this. "He is being helped - you rescued him, did you not? Albus, this was never going to be easy - you just have to keep believing that somewhere in there is Severus, for all his stubbornness and determination and his strength. He has survived this long. He just needs a guiding hand which I do not know if I am qualified to provide." She paused, "But I will continue to try. I understand your sentiment, Albus. I understand why you would like him to stay here, and as a result, I will allow it."

Albus turned to stare at her, "Do you think he will survive?"

Poppy hesitated. "Honestly? I am not sure. I think he has been through much torment and by rights should already be dead. The fact that he is not suggests that we cannot give up hope." In an almost maternal gesture, she rested her hand on top of Severus', "At least, not now. He needs our hope and our belief, and that should help him further." She half smiled, "He also needs a bath."

The mood lightened with her comment and Albus crossed to her. He embraced her just briefly, and she drew strength from that small gesture. "He'll get through it, Poppy. It's Severus. He always finds a way to pull through these things." He tightened his arms and felt her nod against his chest, "I'll speak to the other members of staff. We'll pull together for our Potions professor."

"He'll be our Defence teacher when he returns to his work, Poppy. I promised him that when Tom was defeated, he would be allowed the position. That should help him recover if nothing else." He drew away from Poppy. "Thank you for your support, my dear. It means everything - and please make sure that the other members of the faculty understand how much I appreciate their patience and well wishes. Once I am sure Severus is over the worst and will not just drift off to the other plane in his sleep, I will return to my usual duties." He knew that Hogwarts needed a Headmaster and that there were things he needed to sort out inside the Ministry, but nothing was more important than what lay in the bed beside him.

An ever so slight shifting of position attracted their attention and Albus bestowed a gentle and almost benevolent smile on Severus as the other returned to his usual state of almost conscious, eyelids fluttering. Albus brushed a hand to his forehead, "Good morning."

As if to prove it to Poppy and Albus, Severus managed to hiss "Good morning" in return, coupled with a moan. Albus soothed him and Poppy watched them. "I think he is in good hands here. I'll be in my office."

Severus frowned, trying to place the voice in the room and Poppy saw his eyes flicker toward her. "Pop…py…wait…" He managed, and something stung painfully at the back of her eyes as she moved toward him. "I'm here."

"Make - sure…" He swallowed mid sentence to moisten his dry throat, "Albus eats something."

Albus smiled and Poppy laughed at this. "We'll look after Albus, Severus, don't you worry. You need to focus on getting well." She brushed a hand against his hair affectionately, "We'll find the way, Severus. We'll have you back taking points from Gryffindors in no time."

Albus had gone to find a glass of water, placing it by Severus. "Thank you, Poppy." He waited for her to leave before helping Severus to carefully sip the water, regarding him. "Poppy suggested we try cleaning you up a little, Severus. Your hair is a mess." He looked at the split ends with disdain, knowing that Severus probably did not care about his hair but not knowing what else to say. This was going to be awkward, after all. "How about it, my boy? Will you allow me to slight your dignity further?"

Either Severus had not quite understood what Albus was implying, or he was trying to ignore it and pretend they were talking about something else - because his reaction was rather limited. In fact, there was no reaction - he simply continued to lie still. Albus swallowed the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat, "I don't like this any more than you Severus but Poppy is correct - you do need a bath - your injuries will not heal if they have dirt in the wounds."

"No." Severus responded.

Albus knew he should have been relieved at Severus demonstrating some sort of past characteristic, but he doubted it was Severus' pride. Once again, something close to fear had tainted black irises - and Albus knew then that he was treading on territory that Voldemort had clearly abused recently too. He needed to do this. He waited a moment, before hazarding, "Will you tell me what he did, and why the idea of water unsettles you so?" When Severus offered no answer, Albus continued, "You did not want to drink the water - I saw the fear - I see it again, now. Please, Severus. He must have done something. I can see that."

Severus' eyes narrowed - and Albus wondered if he was about to say something - but nothing came. "Severus. Please." He begged, pleaded, he couldn't bear not to know any longer. How was he supposed to help Severus if he could not even begin to understand what had happened to him?

Severus contemplated this, before acquiescing. "I'll show you - but you will need - to do - the magic."

Albus comprehended. "Are you sure? I do not want to hurt you."

"Do it."

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><p><em>"Are you thirsty, Severus? Do not try to lie to me, because I can see the dryness of your lips from here." He watched Voldemort, hands above his head, eyesight slightly blurred. The Dark Lord was stood opposite him, holding a single glass of water. "Would you like this?" He steadied his breathing at the Dark Lord's taunt and tried to turn his face away, but the clear liquid was just too tempting. He would not beg for it, though, Voldemort came nearer and placed the glass on the floor by him. "There we are." A pause, before Voldemort smirked. "Oh, but wait. You can't reach, can you?" He trembled with anger and distress as Voldemort continued to cruelly survey him. "I guess there's only one way you'd be able to drink that, Severus." Voldemort waved his wand just once and the glass transformed into a bowl - like the one a dog would drink from. "You can use that like the animal you are, without your hands." Voldemort censured. Humiliated, he lashed out with his feet, kicking it away so the water splashed onto the ground. Voldemort watched, bemused. "How very impolite of you, Severus, to refuse a drink from your host in such a way. Never mind. You will learn, in time."<em>

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><p><em>"They say that, when one is desperate for something to slake his thirst, the sound of a dripping tap just out of sight can cause an onslaught of early insanity. Shall we try, Severus? I think it might be a cause for entertainment. Sleep well." The voice was gone and he was left alone. It took a moment for his ears to pick up the sound - distant enough but still too near - water, dripping onto a hard surface. He felt his chest clench as he focused on that sound - he was so thirsty - he desperately needed to drink - his throat was burning, he could hardly speak, and his lip would barely part for dryness. Drinking from a bowl at the Dark Lord's feet had never been an option - but even that was more bearable then actually hearing water, so far away yet so close too - he tried to ignore it but the sound echoed inside his very mind and he could feel it, the need, the desire - he wrenched against his cuffs with a cry of rage, knowing they would not release him yet wishing they would too. There was enough give for him to lurch to his feet - but should he move too far, he would fall - that did not stop him trying, and when he was on his knees he imagined the show he must be performing and retreated back to his wall - and instead, let the sound begin to steal away his sanity.<em>

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><p><em>"I really do not see the problem, Severus. You said you wanted water." The words were muffled with the weight of the water above him, as he coughed and spluttered and the vital yet deadly fluid swept into his lungs. Perhaps taking pity, Voldemort pulled him out of the tank and threw him onto the ground before him, examining him as he spat water from his mouth. His hair damp, groggy from the lack of oxygen, he could do nothing to stop Voldemort grabbing him by the throat and raising him from the ground so they were practically eye to eye. "What's wrong? Is that water not pure enough for you? I thought you said you wanted to drink?" Voldemort's fingers tightened and Severus rasped and gasped for breath, wanting to claw at the hand around his throat but his hands were behind his back. He managed to glare at Voldemort, and Voldemort seemed to find this vaguely amusing. "What are you going to do now? Plead for Dumbledore to come and rescue you - as you did in your sleep?" -<em>

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><p>Albus viciously withdrew from Severus and the other turned away, eyes closed. Albus took a moment to recover himself, blinking hard to dry the tears that had clouded his vision. The memories had been so real - so filled with torment and hopelessness - he needed a minute just to return his breathing to its usual rate, to allow himself to formulate a sentence of which to speak - but he could find nothing. He simply sat on the bed beside Severus and pulled him into his arms, resting Severus against his chest and closing his eyes, shivering despite himself. "I'm so sorry, my boy. I really am. I am so sorry."<p>

A pause, and then Severus answered, "Wasn't your fault. Do you see, now?"

Albus nodded once, then pulled back to look into Severus' face. "That is just the start, isn't it? There is so much worse."

Severus ran his tongue over his lips and would not answer. Albus brought a hand up to his face and swept the tears that had gathered by the sides of his eyes away, tightening his embrace around Severus. "We will find a way to beat this. He's dead, Severus. He cannot harm you any more."

Severus' next comment surprised him. "I'd like a bath, if you would be so kind."

Albus hesitated, "Are you sure? After what you have just shown me - "

"I stink of him." Severus answered abruptly. "I stink of him and that cell. Do not think I cannot smell it."

Albus listened to this slow sentence and knew something, somewhere, shattered inside his heart. "Well." He tried to joke, "I didn't want to say anything - you can be prickly about these things, especially your hair."

"Just get rid of it."

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><p>Albus tested the water with his hand, thinking it was probably too hot. "I haven't done this for a while." He said by way of explanation to Severus, who was now propped up against the bathroom wall, head resting against a waist high cabinet. His eyes were open but Albus could tell he was tired. "Poured a bath for someone else, I mean. It might be too hot."<p>

Severus did not offer a response. Albus moved back to sit beside him, "Are you still with me?"

"…I am trying…to picture the room…I am in." Severus answered.

Albus smiled. "You'd hate it. It's yellow." He undid the stained nightshirt and carefully eased it over Severus' thin shoulders, avoiding his hands the best he could. "What can you feel?"

A pause. "Pain."

"Well, that was a predictable response. My apologies for such a simple question, Severus. Allow me to rephrase - can you feel anything beside pain?" His tone, he supposed, was bordering on sarcastic - and Severus half smiled. "The tiles on my back are cold."

"Yes, I imagine they would be." Albus threw the nightshirt aside and started on the fabric trousers, eyes admittedly distracted by the injuries Severus had sustained to his ribcage. "One day, when you have the strength, you can tell me exactly what happened." He did feel, at times, like it was a one-sided conversation. He wondered if Severus simply did not have the strength or inclination to respond. He decided to leave Severus' underwear - even he did not have the strength for that, and the possible truth of what may have happened to Severus over his imprisonment, and after checking that the boy was ready to be moved, carefully lifted him into his arms. "Normally, saying you were light would be a compliment." He broke the tense silence. "Now, sure about this?"

A slight affirmative response from Severus which Albus would have to accept. "It will come up only to about your shoulders. No deeper. And I'll be here the whole time." He had never wanted some acerbic comment so much in his life - after telling Severus, for so many years, that it would be beneficial if he were more mild-mannered, he found himself desperately hoping for some sarcasm. He understood that Severus was barely alive and that was the reason for this submissive behaviour - but he couldn't help wondering if Voldemort had broken the very spirit of Severus - the snide, sarcastic and snappy Slytherin who preferred ripping people to shreds to letting them sit down in the staffroom and enjoy a biscuit.

For his part, Severus seemed rather relaxed by the water - probably due to Albus' constant reassurance, or perhaps because he didn't even want to argue. When he was sure that Severus wasn't panicking or frightened, Albus pulled a flannel from the drawers and dipped it into the water, brushing it against Severus' hairline to try to remove some of the more persistent dried blood. "Severus. He didn't - when you were there - he didn't -" He did not know how to word it, "What he did to you - it was never - intimate - was it?'

A sharp response from Severus, "And you believe - I would be worth - that privilege?"

Albus wanted to flinch but managed to control himself. "I just needed to know." He continued his careful administrations, wondering how to stop the silence ensuing between them. But it was Severus who chose to speak. "For the first month - he kept me alone. He left me - in the darkness - with nothing. A glass of water once a week. I did not see him. I did not hear him. It was just me." He swallowed, "I could move. I walked. I paced. My strength ran out and I sat. In there, fears, they were - my fear of what he would do - the war - what would happen to you - and the desperate loneliness - it was too much - to handle." His voice was harsh and he took a moment to steady it. Albus continued to clean Severus' hairline, listening intently to every word and every small emotional inflection on the syllables. "I thought, perhaps - I was mad." He shook his head, "It was after that - that he came - and I would have - given anything - for that confinement once more. He - I was dependent - on him. At first, I tried - I tried to fight - but he had more patience - he was not the one in the cell - he was not the one alone and lost - he waited until he knew I - did not have the strength to even try - resist - there was none - and he was everything. Company. I needed him." He turned his face away, eyes sparkling.

Albus knew he ought to say something. "That is perfectly understandable, Severus. You were frightened. You didn't have anything else. Can I ask - " A question that had played on his mind. "What kept you going?"

Severus didn't answer, sightless eyes still staring at the wall.

Albus swallowed, "You'll need to put your head under the water." He murmured, and expected a negative response from Severus. Instead, he got something else. "You. You kept me going."

Albus had not been expecting that. "Pardon?"

"I clung to - this picture - of you. It is probably - not even you - a warped, twisted image that - I created - but when I was at my weakest - you were there. I clung to that. I thought you would come. I - knew - you would come." Severus hesitated, "Do not laugh at me. For being sentimental. I took enough of that - from him - when it was your name - on my lips - he would mock me - tell me that you were not coming - he told me that I pleaded with you in my nightmares - and when I was delirious, I cried for you - and I never knew if he was speaking the truth - though I imagine - he was - right. I imagined you - until you were real - my Headmaster - and that was enough. That - was enough - when he tried to humiliate me. You were all I had - when he tortured me - when he told me what he wanted my fingernails - for - when he took my sight - you were still there." He coughed and swallowed but would not allow Albus to interrupt, "I said - I told him - I would not die - without you. He laughed. It was a promise. If this is to be my end, Albus - it will be when I have laid eyes on you - rather than the picture I have of you - in my head." Long silence followed. He lingered. "Where - where have you gone - "

Albus' voice, broken by sobs, managed to greet him. "I'm here."

Severus listened. "You are - crying."

"I seem to do that a lot at the moment, Severus. This is not your end. This is only the beginning."

Severus regarded him for a long moment and Albus wondered if Severus was using the image of him, the picture he had of Albus, something that had sustained him. He spoke again. "You can put my head under the water now."

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><p>Albus soothed Severus' drying hair back against the pillow as the other surrendered to sleep. Severus had managed to accept five tablespoons of soup this evening before shaking his head, and Albus had relented. They had not said much that evening - not after Severus' broken yet meaningful statements in the bathroom. Albus watched over the sleeping figure for a moment, before leaning close and kissing Severus' forehead just once. "Thank you, my boy. Thank you for trusting me - and even in that cell - for never giving up on me."<p>

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><p><em>I wish to point out that your comments are really helping with this story and I am judging much of how it is progressing based on your reactions and emotions - please keep them coming, I am still a novice at this as you can tell! ~ SS19<em>


	9. Chapter 9

**The Long Road**

_"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry…"_

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

"Please, Severus. Please. Fight for me." He pleaded and begged, clutching at a hand that was wrapped within his own, "Severus, please - you need to fight this - "

"Albus. Albus, I'm sorry - I'm so sorry - but I don't think - " Poppy's voice, near to his ear. "I think you ought to come away - go and sleep -" She was trying to spare him unnecessary pain - but there was no agony that could compare to this - the true torment of his heart breaking, once more - "Please, Severus - please." His voice was tortured, shaking and trembling as he shook the limp hand, watching a chest rise and fall, rise and fall, too quickly - too uncomfortably - "You are stronger than this!" The sob caught in his chest as he lurched up and onto the side of the bed, pressing the palm of his hand to Severus' cheek, "Severus…"

Poppy relented and turned away, shaking her head and wanting to slump into a chair herself - she looked back at the bent and hunched figure of Albus, crouched over Severus, tears streaming and voice fragmented as he tried to desperately convince Severus to wake up. "I'm sorry, Albus…"

Albus could feel the heat draining from Severus' skin, replacing it with the bitter chill of lingering death - he knelt beside Severus on the bed, knowing that they were alone now, fighting to keep Severus with him - "Come on, Severus - you were doing so well! We were talking and you were eating - what is this?" But he knew what it was - he could see it, the damage and the dark magic infecting a wound that would not heal. The bitter paradox - Poppy had only applied a simple salve to Severus' left arm, and it had resulted in the other practically screaming - if he had had a voice to scream with - before collapsing into unconsciousness and lingering in this near deathlike state.

Albus gripped Severus' hand tighter, the morbid curiosity of how the bones crumpled inside his fingers - perhaps Severus would feel the pain and return to him - but there was not even a flicker on that pale face - "Severus!" He would not lose his boy now, not after the past days when the other had shown true signs of recovery. "Severus, you must be able to hear me - you just need to find your way back to me."

Still nothing. Why was there nothing? Why couldn't Severus respond to him in the way that Severus always did? Severus always responded to Albus - so many years - he stroked Severus' hair gently and tried to calm his own raging emotions. He had thought - hoped, or even dared to dream - that Severus had been on the mend. He had been showing progress and Albus had foolishly believed that Severus would one day sit beside him at the staff table once more. Instead, this would be the future - he would watch Severus drift away and pass into the next plain, and leave Albus here…but why could he not simply let Severus go? Why did he want to fight so desperately - why did the idea of not having Severus with him worry him, and hurt him, so greatly? "Please, my boy. A sign - anything -"

He closed his eyes to deny the truth, feeling Severus' cold fingers entwined with his. This was the end - Severus had been pushed so far - too far - that he had nothing left. Albus wiped his face and the dampness away with his sleeve, unaccustomed to such emotion but knowing it could only be brought on by Severus. He lowered himself back into his chair and rested his forehead in his palm, shivering and shaking. "I don't want you to die, Severus - I wanted you to survive." He looked at Severus, lying still in the bed, "I wanted you to live."

His forehead furrowed under the weight of a frown which was not through grief - but through an idea that suddenly possessed him. Could he - it had been such a while since he had attempted such magic, and he did not even know if it worked - but it was powerful. Very powerful magic. Light magic, magic that was older than Albus - older than any other form - but even he did not know the consequences.

Severus was in pain. Albus should simply let him fade away in his sleep, shouldn't he? He shouldn't force Severus to continue to fight when it was clear the other had no strength or energy left to do so.

But at the same time, there was a chance he could help Severus to live. He could bring Severus back from this brink - damn to hell the consequences - what did consequences matter when it was the life of someone Albus truly cared for?

He did not have much time. He could feel Severus fading, like a ghostly apparition, disappearing. He picked himself up from the chair and sat once more beside Severus, leaning down and pressing a kiss to a still forehead just briefly. "You are not going to die on me, Severus Snape. Not on my watch."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Severus stirred as much as his broken body would allow, and shifted position. His head bumped against something soft beside him and he whispered something under his breath - most likely a hiss. He swallowed and his throat ached. He forced his eyelids to part but still no light penetrated his pupils - he remained submerged in darkness. He moaned and closed his eyes again, feeling an itch on his back - the part of his back he could feel - but knowing he was unable to scratch it. The anger that was rampant inside his paralysed chest threatened to rise again - he wanted to be able to move, he wanted to be able brew, he wanted to be able to see - damn it - angrier now, he tried to force his body to work - pleading with his muscles to respond - he wanted to writhe and kick out and strike against this dark prison -

"Shush. Shush. Severus. Calm down, my boy." Albus' voice, somewhere above him. How he wanted to be able to see the Headmaster, he wanted to be able to look into those eyes which he thought were blue - he wanted to see them twinkle and crinkle when he was happy - he just wanted to see some emotion - something other than the blackness. His pulse was increasing and he could hear his blood pounding inside his head, exacerbating his headache - his breathing was coming faster -

"Severus. Severus, please. I know you are angry…" Albus was trying to reason with him, but how could Albus know - he did not know what it felt like to be so hopeless, to be so pathetic, to be trapped - always trapped - why did he have to be trapped? "Make me see." He managed to force between his lips.

"I do not know how, Severus. I am trying but I do not know how…"

"Make me move. Please. Make me move."

"It will take time, Severus…"

"I don't want time!" Oh, how his throat hurt. "I want it now!" His voice scratched and broke and he struggled to breathe.

A cool hand pressed to his cheek and the side of his jaw. "You have to let your body recover. You need to be patient."

How he wanted to touch that hand with his own - he wanted to feel the roughness of the skin beneath his fingertips - he wanted to feel fingers entwine with his - "I don't like this…" He hated the darkness most of all. "I want to see! I want to see you!" His eyes were wet - he could not cry yet he could still see, how was that even possible? His breathing caught in his chest as he tried not to sob - how pathetic was this - he hated himself - himself and his stupid prison and his weakness - "Why are you doing this to me?" He pleaded, perhaps of Albus, perhaps of Voldemort, perhaps of the cruel Goddess Fate - "Why can't you let me die…"

There was no response immediately. He wanted to be able to judge expressions himself. He didn't want to have to listen.

"We will find a way through this, Severus. Trust me. We will find a way through."

There was no 'we' in this situation - it was just him in his own dark little world - he could feel something wet trickling down his nose. A finger swept the tear away, "I shall redouble my efforts." Albus was doing everything for him - he should be more grateful - "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be sorry, it's expected. Come on, now, I'll sit you up."

Arms around him - he hated being touched - but with Albus it was fine. It was acceptable. He was leant against a chest and he could feel Albus breathing and he listened hard enough, could hear a heartbeat that almost soothed him. He relaxed as best he could, happy to be in the warmth.

Albus was humming something under his breath. "Do you remember - do you remember the dance?"

Severus didn't know what he meant, so he did not answer.

"Surely you must remember, Severus? You argued against it. You swore you would not dance with me. Even though everyone else had - it wasn't as if it was odd. You were the odd one, not dancing with me…"

Yes, he did remember. He did remember, sitting in the armchair in the staffroom that he favoured - brown leather with a small white cushion and enough space for him to pull his legs up if he was reading. It was close to the fire so he could warm his cold hands - flames, flickering back and forth, bright oranges and yellows and browns. The night of the New Year party, every year there was a different theme, and Albus had determined that the theme for this one particular one would be a dance in which each teacher would be expected to dance with him. Severus had discounted that - he was only there because he enjoyed the music and the company at a lonely time of year - and the mulled wine, of course. A silver and green goblet, held in one hand and filled with the steaming liquid as he watched Albus gracefully waltz with Minerva - he was wearing soft blue and she was wearing her traditional green - the fabric looked soft. The song ending, applause from the more enthusiastic and intoxicated teachers, and Albus turning to look at Severus. Those piercing blue eyes looking straight at him and the raise of a silver eyebrow, "_Well_?"

Severus shaking his head adamantly, "_No matter how much you top up my wine - no._" And that was all he wold say on the subject, despite Albus' persistence - the party ended, the staff went their separate ways - until it was just Severus and Albus left. Albus was watching the sky, "_It's a new year, now. Strange - it never feels any different. As if nothing has changed_."

Severus remembered the sadness in those words more than he remembered anything else - he stood and turned the record player back up, scratching the needle onto the black. Slightly upbeat jazz music filled the silent staffroom, as he crossed to Albus. "_Might I have the honour of a dance?_" He bowed just slightly, smiling at Albus - who looked at him, bemused. "_Quite sure?_"

"_New year. Nothing's changed. Nothing after this song, anyway. Until then -_ " He held out a hand, "_Do not refuse a dance, Headmaster._"

And Albus took his hand and they half danced, half laughed in time with the music.

Severus - the present day Severus in his world of black - nodded just once. "I remember."

Albus swayed them to and fro on the bed for a moment, "I should hope so. Never been so surprised in my whole life. You were a very good dancer. One day, when you are feeling up to it, you can teach the students." Albus paused. "You can see, Severus - you can see the past. Cling to it if you need to - but remember it, in all its colours and brightness - even if it is something as jokey as a dance."

Severus felt his chest move as if Albus had sighed. "I nearly lost you last night. You were on the brink. I thought you were going to pass away."

Severus did not remember that, he just remember a rather deep sleep.

"I have never been quite so frightened in my life, Severus. I know I can help you to recover. I know we can make you better. But you need to put your faith in me. You need to trust me, for a little bit longer."

Severus accepted that. He paused. "Do you remember…the beach? In Dorset?"

He felt Albus nod. "Of course."

"I can see it."

"Tell me."

"I can see your sandcastle. How upset you were when the tide came in. I can see the waves. The rock pools that we found crabs in. How they move sideways. That fascinated you. The candy floss - I hate candy floss - but you loved it. The pink, pink and light and all stuck in your beard. I see the lights of the amusement arcade. The sounds of the games. The children. There were lots of children. That machine that we put all our Muggle money in, and then you cast a spell so that all the coins fell out and we could lose them again. The brown sand and the grey rocks and the white shells - do you remember - we collected some and put them in your office." Severus lingered on the memory. "I'd like to go again, some day."

Albus was very quiet for a long time. Severus could not judge what he was doing. "…Al…Albus?"

"We'll go. We'll go again. I promise."

It took Severus a few minutes to realise that Albus was crying.


End file.
